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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26237926">feel you in my chest</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/benditlikepress/pseuds/benditlikepress'>benditlikepress</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCIS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Minor Injuries, Tony is a dummy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:09:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26237926</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/benditlikepress/pseuds/benditlikepress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony gets lightheaded after working too hard on a case.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>feel you in my chest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My September entry for the prompt challenge on giveusourtivaprompts on tumblr. this one had to be 1k-2k, soft, and feature the idea of home and the words "you matter to me"<br/>i may or may not have written this in 10 minutes</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ouch.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, dear boy, my patients aren’t usually able to object.”</p><p>Tony winced as Ducky finished wiping the wound and placed the gauze over it.</p><p>“Thanks, doc. I owe you one.”</p><p>“Yes, well. Let this be a lesson to you in future, hm? Take a break every once in a while.”</p><p>“Case is done. Maybe I’ll even get a day off.”</p><p>“I hope so. The last few days have been a challenge for you all.”</p><p>Tony winced again as the tape came down over the gauze, considering the truth of the words. Serial killers were always tough but this one had been particularly hard to stomach – a suspect Tony hadn’t been able to nail during his time in charge when Gibbs retired had reared his ugly head to the tune of 2 new bodies. The guilt about this had been on his shoulders and he knew he’d barely stopped for breath for the past week. That was, until they’d finally got a confession and he’d gone to autopsy to pick up a last piece of evidence and had what he’d one day insist was simply a very chill ‘second of light-headedness’, in which he’d stumbled and hit his head off the autopsy table.</p><p>He’d only passed out for a moment (that he was aware of) and had since found himself perched on the edge of the cold autopsy table as Ducky poked and prodded him with his attempt at live-care.</p><p>“How is the patient?”</p><p>Tony whipped his head too quickly to the door and groaned at the pain radiating from the cut on his head. Ziva was standing in the doorway with her hands behind her back.</p><p>“Oh come in, dear. We’re all finished.”</p><p>Ziva had taken it upon herself to try to keep him grounded, shoving cups of coffee at him whenever his hands were empty. The gesture had been sweet at the time but, in hindsight, drinking nothing but coffee for several days in a row probably hadn’t been the smartest of ideas.</p><p>Of course he wouldn’t mention that to her, knowing she’d spent the rest of the last few days trying to get him to eat salad that he’d dismissed with childish complaints. Instead, he smiled weakly at her as she crossed the autopsy theatre towards where he was sat.</p><p>She grabbed his head in her typical bullish way but her hand slowed almost immediately, her touch suddenly gentle and tentative. She stroked the line of his hair where Ducky had expertly placed gauze stuck with tape, and rubbed her thumb along the bare skin next to it. Tony didn’t flinch, even as he lifted the tape to look at the cut underneath it.</p><p>She hung over him for a long time, a little frown on her face as she inspected the cut like a surgeon. In return, Tony’s unsettled stomach and chest were flipping at the proximity. He couldn’t stop watching her – the way her eyes flickered down his face every so often to take in his features, the way her thumb was still rubbing his skin even as she examined the injury. Eventually she covered it back over and even still he found it hard to drag his eyes away.</p><p>"Did Ducky call you?" He eventually asked, working through his swimming thoughts. She frowned further.</p><p>"You do not remember what happened? I was stood right next to you."</p><p>"You were? I don't-"</p><p>"Does he need to go to the hospital?”</p><p>"I shouldn't think so. The disorientation should wear off soon. Fluids, my boy, that's what you need. And rest, for goodness sake."</p><p>“I have been trying to tell him as such.” Ziva pulled herself up onto the autopsy table next to him, placing her hand next to his. “We were going to go for dinner to celebrate a job well done. You said you wanted to come and pick up the box from Ducky, and suddenly you are on the floor with blood all over you.”</p><p>“Well, that..” Tony was embarrassed of the story, though he didn’t much remember it. He did remember Ziva asking him for dinner, the kind of nonchalant invitation that had become second nature. “It’s good to keep you on your toes.”</p><p>“Ah.” Ziva nodded with a false sincerity. “Well, consider me toe-d.”</p><p>“Consider you <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“Stress can sometimes affect the way the brain processes information.” Ducky butted in before Tony could comment further on her attempt at a turn of phrase.</p><p>“I am not stressed. At least, not anymore if my partner decides to stop passing out.”</p><p>“One time. It was <em>one</em> time.”</p><p>Tony jerked his head as he objected and sent another jolt of pain through it. He must have physically reacted because Ziva’s hand lifted back to the wound and then cupped his cheek. He felt exposed, suddenly, even with Ducky sat at his desk 10 feet away.</p><p>“You are fine, Tony.”</p><p>“I… yeah, I know.”</p><p>“Good. Because you are not doing that again.” Her voice got unexpectedly soft for a moment, and her hand stilled on his face. He almost felt like apologising, a little guilty that he seemed to have worried her.</p><p>“Not to wish the two of you away, but our next guest is on their way to make use of the bed.”</p><p>Ziva hopped down from the table and held out her hands to help Tony down as though he were a child. He took them readily, though, joining their fingers as he put his legs down still a little unsteadily.</p><p>“You are under strict instructions to leave immediately and not come back for at least 24 hours. I will drive you."</p><p>"Oh, that's not necessary."</p><p>"It is, and you are coming.”</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"Because you matter to me, Tony." She said the words with a humoured exasperation, but Tony still beamed smugly.</p><p>"Then why are you trying to kill me?"</p><p>“OK, you can walk.” Ziva started to leave the room and though he knew she didn’t mean it, he still reached out to grab her and spin her around.</p><p>“Hey – hey, c’mon. Kidding. Thank you. I’ll hold onto the handle, it’ll be fine.”</p><p>“I do not know why I bother with you sometimes. Come on, we are going home. Put your arm over me."</p><p>It seemed to have slipped out without her thinking about it – the joint concept. "Home?"</p><p>Ziva reacted a little to his repetition of the word she’d said so easily. Self-defensive. “Yes. Let’s go.”</p><p>Tony had never really had somewhere that felt like home. Not since he was a child and he’d been able to wrap up in his bed at his parents’ old house with his mother tucking him in. That word, though, coming out of Ziva’s mouth. It had the same effect on him as it had done her.</p><p>“OK. Let’s go home.”</p>
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